


Sinners and Saints

by Rinzler



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, I know I just met you, but my ex just walked in...so please make out with me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinners and Saints

“Bitterness is a paralytic. Love is a much more vicious motivator,” Sherlock said in _A Study In Pink_. At the time, Barry had been paying far more attention to the science used in the show. Still, it’s that quote that comes to mind when he glances around the bar and his eyes land on the man just entering it.

One very specific man with close-cropped hair and a tribal tattoo. One very specific man who Barry had sworn up and down he would never forgive and never forget, who he would run away from as fast as he could if they ever met again.

Tony Woodward. His high school crush and the man Barry thought he could be happy with… Until Tony left him with a broken wrist and a blackened eye, bloody nose smearing all over the carpet as he cried. Until Barry reached for his phone with trembling hands and pressed a series of numbers he knew there was no coming back from.

The bar they’re in is large but not that large. There’s a few shadowed corners- all occupied. There’s one door- Tony’s standing in front of it, looking around.

“Damn,” Barry curses under his breath, ducking down behind the man he’s seated next to at the bar. He doesn’t have a way out. He doesn’t have anywhere to run. So he either needs to avoid catching Tony’s attention until Tony leaves, or he needs to convince Tony that it’s not worth going after him.

“You okay, kid?” The man next to him asks. Barry glances up at him through his eyelashes, and despite the panic coursing through him, feels his heart skip a beat.

The other man is gorgeous, the kind of dangerous, sharp-edged gorgeous that attracted Barry to Tony in the first place. A dark blue henley under a leather jacket emphasizes how muscular he is, and steely blue eyes survey Barry intensely. Barry kind of wants to bite his jawline to see if it’s actually real.

“Uh?” Barry says, and feels himself blush scarlet. “I mean, um- oh gosh sorry-”

“Don’t be,” the man grins. If they weren’t sitting down at the bar, Barry’s pretty sure his knees would have just given in and sent him falling to the floor. “I usually get that kind of reaction.”

“Yeah, I mean, I can see why- oh no,” Barry says desperately. “Oh no, oh fuck no-”

“Hey,” the other man says, and reaches out, placing a hand on Barry’s arm. “Are you okay or not?”

“So not,” Barry says desperately. Tony’s noticed him, and is currently walking across the room to the bar. He doesn’t know that Barry’s already noticed him. That buys him about another thirty seconds of time… If love is a vicious motivator, desperation to avoid it is ten times as strong. Barry swallows nervously and turns to face the man next to him head-on.

“I know I just met you, but my ex just walked in, so please make out with me?” Barry asks.

“Buy me a drink first,” the other man says with a smirk.

“I don’t have time!” Barry hisses. “Please, just- I can’t face him, I can’t run away from him-”

“Run away from him?” The man echoes, starting to look confused.

“And I’d rather not get punched again-” Barry continues.

“He punched you?” The man says. He doesn’t look confused anymore. He looks pissed off. Barry bites his lip.

“Please,” he says quietly, desperately, just as Tony reaches the bar, eyes sliding shut in defeat.

There’s the press of warm lips against his and a hand carding through his hair. Barry startles imperceptibly, almost opening his eyes before he remembers he needs to keep them shut. Then the hand in his hair gives a gentle tug and Barry couldn’t be bothered to keep his eyes open if his life depended on it, too busy trying to memorize every detail of this.

Wintergreen and pinewood flood his senses, the smell of cold with an undertone of leather and whiskey. It’s masculine and fresh at the same time. It’s absolutely intoxicating. Barry hears the rustle of clothing and then there’s another hand on his hip, pulling him to the very edge of his barstool. Barry gasps softly, and the other man takes the opportunity to nip at Barry’s bottom lip with his teeth.

Barry outright whines at that, reaching his hands forward to tangle in the fabric of the man’s henley. The rough cotton under his fingers has little give, already stretched tight over a muscular chest. Barry hums happily, tilting his head just a little more, feeling his last reserve of restraint drift away like wisps of smoke in a strong breeze. God, this is the best kiss he’s ever been given, and though the circumstances aren’t the best Barry wouldn’t change a thing.

The other man withdraws and Barry jerks back, eyes flying open and mouth still slightly open. His cheeks are warm and he feels more than a little dizzy.

“Oh, oh wow,” Barry says breathily. The man smirks at him. His eyes are even more intense the closer he gets, pure, piercing blue.

“That’s not the kind of reaction I usually get,” he says. His voice has dropped, becoming lower, huskier. Barry makes a vague noise of agreement. He’s never had a kiss like that before. “Want to get out of here?” The other man asks. Barry opens his mouth to agree.

“Ye-”

“No,” comes a voice from behind him, and a hand clamps down on Barry’s shoulder. He can’t fight back the flinch that follows, or the flicker of fear in his eyes. Tony hasn’t left. “He’s not leaving with you.”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion,” the other man says, glaring at Tony. His voice is icy. Tony ignores him, moving around until he’s standing in front of Barry, next to the man who almost saved him.

“Hey, babe. Remember me?” Tony says. “Yeah, I know you do,” he continues without waiting for a response. “So how about you and I get out of here, and leave this guy behind?”

“He’s not going anywhere with you,” the man says, voice verging on threatening.

“Yeah, he is,” Tony snorts. God, how did Barry ever find him attractive? He’s horrible. “Now come on,” he says, and tries to pull Barry off his barstool.

His grip on Barry’s wrist is far too tight, and Barry cries out in pain, mind flashing back to Tony breaking that same wrist, voice a snarl of anger-

There’s a blur of movement, and then the pain is gone.

Barry collapses back against the bar, cradling his wrist to his chest, and stares in shock. Tony is lying flat on the floor, nose bleeding, looking dazed. Standing above him is Barry’s savior, right arm half-outstretched and knuckles glistening red in the low light.

“He’s not going anywhere with you,” the other man repeats. If he sounded icy before, his voice has reached sub-zero levels now. Barry shivers at the tone. Tony ignores the threat and pulls himself to his knees, staggering upward.

“Yeah he fucking is! He’s mine!” Tony shouts.

By now all the activity in the bar has come to a halt as everyone observes the conflict currently taking place. Without the hum of conversation, glasses clinking, and the occasional screech of a chair being moved, the bar is eerily quiet.

“He’s not anyone’s, least of all yours.” The man snaps and gestures at the door. “Leave.”

Tony snarls and lunges. There’s another sharp thudding sound, the crack of bone hitting bone, and then Tony is on the ground again. This time, his eyes are closed.

The other man waits a moment, and when Tony doesn’t move, turns back to the bar. Most of the other patrons turn away at the same time, having seen a clear end to the conflict. A few conversations pick up again, and within seconds the bar is back to its usual noise level.

“You okay?” The man asks. Barry glances between him and Tony, lying on the floor, no longer the biggest threat in the room.

“Now I am,” Barry says, feeling relief color his tone. “Thank you. For doing that.”

“Should you really be thanking me for hitting someone?” The other man questions, stepping closer. Barry tilts his head in consideration.

“Well, he did hit me first,” Barry says, glancing down at Tony. “And you probably also saved me from getting a broken hand, because I was about to do the same thing. I’ve had enough of abusive ex-boyfriends.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Abusive? You going to report him for that?”

“Already did,” Barry says absently. Then he bites his lip. “Besides-” he slips of the barstool and sways forward, looking up at the other man through his eyelashes. “-I can think of something else I’d much rather be doing.”

“Or someone,” the man agrees, eyes darkening as his pupils dilate. Barry grins shyly, glad that he seems to understand Barry’s attempts at flirting.

“Barry Allen,” Barry introduces himself.

“Call me Len,” the other man says. “Still want to get out of here, Barry? I got a place five blocks away.”

“Please,” Barry agrees, shivering at the way Len says his name, filthy and promising.

Hours later, exhausted and sated and cuddling with Len in a tangle of sheets, Barry sends a silent prayer of thanks to the universe at large for hot strangers in bars.

**Author's Note:**

> I sin all day, everyday at whyinhades on tumblr.


End file.
